


'Tis A Lonely Sorrow, Child.

by elrondhalfelven



Series: Of Elrond Peredhel [9]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt No Comfort, foresight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 17:00:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29920005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elrondhalfelven/pseuds/elrondhalfelven
Summary: Elrond knows that even the stars will one day depart from him.
Series: Of Elrond Peredhel [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185962
Kudos: 8





	'Tis A Lonely Sorrow, Child.

Elrond twirled upon the tips of his feet, shadowy hair cascading down his back and entwining with the darkness of the night; only the embers of waxing starlight and willowy fire could glimmer upon the ebony strands. His evening grey eyes were adorned with beams of moonlight- ethereally beautiful as the child of stars that he was- but a sorrow borne of shattered naivety lingered within their shadowy depths.

For now, the child capered with the twilight; draping ivory nightgown swaying about his form, wispy stars haloing about his head. The night caressed against his pale cheek with the endearingly gentle touch of a father, of the sire that he could not reach. After a while, his bare feet ceased to dance; he lay back against the dewy grasses in a graceful descension of linen and starlight.

Serenely impassive were Elrond’s features as he watched the moon; his eyes reflecting within their depths the knowledge of winters that had not yet passed. Ethereally beautiful and yet exquisitely perilous, to those who brought about such a demeanour. The babe had lost his naivety, but he would flourish despite the trauma he had endured at an age where none should have existed: he had become acquainted with sorrow and soon wisdom would adorn his brow, steadfast as the moonlight which brushed against his forehead. Perhaps then he would dance to the lament of the harp no more. He would become enchanted by fairer music, in likeness to the purity of his heart.

Burrowing his face against the dampness of the ground, Elrond allowed willowy strands of ebony hair to strew themselves about the grass and his pale face.

“They do not leave me, Atar. I wish not for their presence but they do not leave me.”

“Who is it that you speak of, Elrond?”

“The stars. They shine too brightly when I want for it to be dark. I wish for them now to depart me.”

“They will not sunder themselves from you, Elerondo, because they love you.”

“So you say,” he whispered into the darkness, slender fingers picking at the long green stems that lay before him. “So you say.”

No more answers nor elaborations would the child give, as he nestled his head further against the soil and drifted off to sleep under the piercing gaze of his father’s star.

**Author's Note:**

> Posted first on my tumblr lord-elrond-half-elven.


End file.
